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User blog:SirLinkalot96/The Greg Ryder Saga: Part 4: Chapter 7: The New Girl
"Why does it feel like someone hit me in the back of the head with a baseball bat?" C-Money asked me as Brian's cab drove off. I replied sadly, "That's the feeling you get when you lose a friend." We walked back to the dorm and I went into our room. I stared at all the spots on the walls where Brian's posters once were. I sat on my bed and closed my eyes for a few seconds and I opened them, in hope that it was all just a dream. His bed was still there, but only the mattress. Now, my dorm room was dull and depressing. "Bullworth won't be the same without him." I said to myself. I got up and got changed into my school uniform. Right when I just sprayed some cologne on, Miss Danver's voice blasted over the loudspeaker, "Gregory Ryder, please come to the office at once!" I rolled my eyes, "What did I do this time?" I have nothing better to do with my life. Might as well go. I sprinted out the dorm and ran to the main building. When I got to the office I blurted out as I walked in, "Look, I didn't do it, I swear." Miss Danvers looked at me like I was an idiot. "No, no. We want you to give this new student a tour of the school." "Aw, come on, Miss! Why do I have to do it?" I complained like a little kid. She said sternly, "Because you need to learn responsibility! And you will feel good about yourself if you do it!" I groaned at the pathetic reason to do this and said irrattably, "Alright, fine. Where is he?" She said, "You mean, where is 'she'." The girl got up off the bench by the door. Man, she sure is pretty! She looked about 15 years old and had shoulder length brown hair and she had bright aquamarine colored eyes. She was wearing a short, tight gray Etnies jacket, cargo pants, and red Osiris skate shoes. Typical skater chick style. Miss Danvers said, "This is Holly Hanson. She just recently moved here from Vice City. Holly, this is Greg Ryder." She gestured torwards me and I waved awkwardly, "Why don't you show her around, Ryder?" "Okay, follow me." I beckoned Holly to follow me. I walked out of the office with Holly beside me. She said in a snobby voice, "I can find my way around on my own, you know." I really wasn't in the mood for this kind of hard-to-get crap. "Hey, I just need to do this tour so I could go home, okay? So could you just please bear with me for a bit?" I asked her." She seemed skeptical. But she nodded and reluctantly followed me. We walked into the cafeteria and everyone was at lunch. I decided to inform her of the cliques here at Bullworth Academy. "Okay, I'll give you a quick little rundown of the cliques," I pointed to the Nerds table where they were playing Grottos and Gremlins or some shit, "Over there are the Nerds. They're social outcasts, of course. But under that nerdy, pathetic exterior, they're actually two-faced little bastards. They hang out in the library." Holly so politely interuptted, "Of course." I gestured to the preps at the middle table and continued, "And those are the preps. They're all about money and boxing and they talk with fake British accents and all that crap. They're hangout is the Glass Jaw Boxing Gym down in Old Bullworth Vale." Holly asked, "Do they only let people into their clique if you have a lot of money?" "Yeah, but they treat poor people like dirt. Which brings me to the next clique," I gestured to the greasers by the cafe bar. "Those are the greasers. They ride bikes and fix cars and listen to Elvis and all that stuff. They can make a fierce enemy just as much as they can be a loyal friend. They hang by the Auto Shop." I explained. I pointed at the jocks and finished, "And then, you have the Jocks. These guys rule the school. I would advise not messing with them. And everyone else, isn't in a clique." Holly asked, "Are you in a clique?" I answered my most asked question, "Nah, I'm my own clique. But I'm friends with a lot of the greasers, though. Are you gonna join a clique?" "I don't know. Maybe the preps because my dad owns a big electronic company, and my mom's a CEO of some gas company. Maybe we have a lot in common." I looked at her quizzically and said, "You don't dress like a rich kid. How come?" Holly replied, "Well, I don't like the way poor people get treated like dirt, and I feel like I fit in better when I wear normal clothes." I examined her skate brand clothes and questioned, "Do you skate?" She said, "Yeah. I've been skating since I was 7." The school bell rung and I waved and said, "Well, I'll see you around, Holly. It was nice talking with you." Holly said, "Yeah. Bye, Greg!" As I was walking to history class, I thought, "I think I might like her. Mandy was nothing like Holly. She seemed more down-to-earth. Holly Hanson sure is something..." Category:Blog posts